The Norrington Vignettes
by Proud Titania
Summary: Commodore James Norrington has a very complex life that the average moviegoer knows little about. Updated: Norrington gets a makeover!
1. All Aloney

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Pirates of the Caribbean. Except a vair vair large cardboard cutout from Dead Man's Chest that I got because I worked at the movie theatre.

The Norrington Vignettes

(Inspired by the Snape Vignettes of Sarah Noble. Check them out!)

COMMODORE NORRINGTON GOES TO SEE DEAD MAN'S CHEST

James Norrington was sitting in the back of the theatre, so that nobody would see him. He was very absorbed in the scene unfolding right at that moment.

"Do-do-do, do-do-do…" he hummed along to the soundtrack, making sure to make the short notes staccato.

Just at that moment, Jack Sparrow was sharing a passionate kiss with Elizabeth Swann. Norrington gaped like a gaping thing and stared with disbelief at the screen.

"What the…? I spent half of the last movie engaged to her and I got NOTHING! And the pirate gets t—"

"Shut up already!" demanded a man sitting next to him. He then proceeded to make out with his girlfriend.

Norrington hung his head in shame. For as it turned out, he had accidentally chosen the row with the make-out seats, where the arm rests lift up.

…And he was all alone.


	2. Ivy League, Baby!

COMMODORE NORRINGTON WORKS OUT SOME ISSUES

"This whole chasing-pirates thing really isn't working out for me!" exclaimed James Norrington, trying and failing to sink Jack Sparrow's battleship.

"I feel you, mate," Jack said sympathetically, sipping his Raspberry Fruit2O. "F6?"

"God damn it!" Norrington cursed loudly. "You sank my destroyer!"

Jack smiled and took another bite of his cranberry Odwalla bar.

"Maybe I should go to college…" Norrington considered.

"Whatever you say," Jack said, rolling his eyes.

"By golly, that's what I'll do!" he exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table and scattering little red and blue plastic bits all over the floor.

Gibbs walked by. "I had a twenty riding on that game…" he said morosely.


	3. Why Pirates Have Better Vocabularies

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Webster Dictionary or the Oxford University Press. I just own sad dog-eared copies of both.

NORRINGTON CONSULTS MERRIAM-WEBSTER'S DICTIONARY

"Ecumenically," muttered Norrington, consulting a thick book and frowning as he flipped through the pages.

"There! 'Ecuminically, adverb, the state of being ecumenical.'"

Norrington blinked.

"Try the Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary, mate," Jack Sparrow said, tossing a much heavier book into Norrington's lap as he walked by.

"Ooof," Norrington said, by way of thank you.


	4. Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

Disclaimer: 'Coupling' and 'Father Ted' belong to BBC. I think.

NORRINGTON STAYS UP LATE TO WATCH 'COUPLING' RE-RUNS

"If you can't make your mind up, we will never get started!" Norrington sang along loudly, dancing around his bedroom.

"Oh, that Steve!" he exclaimed, "And his shenanigans!"

At that moment, there was a knock on his door and he opened it to find Elizabeth standing, her arms folded across her chest.

"Wha-at?" he asked, in the manner of a whiny teenager.

"Turn off your bloody TV and let other people get some sleep. It's 3 AM!"

"But you don't even live here," Norrington pointed out.

A long silence ensued. Some crickets chirped the theme song from Jaws.

"Where are we, anyway?" Elizabeth asked.

Norrington shrugged.

They left the house together, forgetting to turn off the TV and leaving 'Coupling' to blare well into the morning hours, until 'Father Ted' came on.

A/N: Guess what cool pirates like Jack Sparrow do in their spare time? They review! So be cool and leave me a few lines.


	5. Come Over to the Dark Side

NORRINGTON DOESN'T WANT TO BE THE GOOD GUY ANYMORE

"I'm tired of it! Really!" Norrington said one day, looking up from his Batman comic book.

"But you're not even the good guy…" Will tried to point out. "That's my personality."

"Your personality is that of a prawn," Norrington snapped. "And after that last performance, I think you've been demoted to krill."

Will sulked.

"You see what I mean?" he said, tears in his eyes. "A good guy would never have said that to me!"

Norrington considered this logic.

"You're right! I am the bad guy. Sweet."

He seemed very satisfied.

"Thanks a ton, Will the Krill."

Norrington paused to re-examine this little rhyme. Then he exploded in laughter.

"WILL THE KRILL!"

A/N: Now, please review, or I will send Will the Krill to cry all over your rug and cause it to be excessively soggy!


	6. The Invention of TakeOut?

NORRINGTON MAKES A THREE-COURSE DINNER

"And for dessert, we will have Crème-Brulée, en Flambé!" Norrington exclaimed, giving a deep bow to an audience consisting of his wig, his stuffed animal (a transvestite black dog named Kip), and Gillette.

"Wonderful, sir!" Gillette exclaimed. For Gillette was a very special kind of Yes-man… he was of the suck-up variety.

"I'm glad you think so," Norrington said, nodding solemnly.

"So..." Gillette said to break the awkward silence. "When are you going to make it."

Norrington opened and closed his mouth.

"I still have to buy groceries!" he exclaimed, slapping his palm to his forehead. "And Tesco's won't be around for another few hundred years…" he said sadly.

…Needless to say, the dinner did not get made.

A/N: Please review for Norrington. The man can make a mean baked Alaska, but he needs some encouragement!


	7. Fluff, Poof, and Other Atrocities

NORRINGTON DOES THE UNTHINKABLE

Commodore James Norrington was gasping for breath, bent over from running for so long. At last, at LONG LAST, he had penetrated the forbidden.

He was standing inside Elizabeth's closet. Brushing himself off, he walked towards his destination.

He ignored the shrine dedicated to Jack Sparrow made out of used chewing gum A/N: Thank you, "Hey, Arnold!" and empty rum bottles and continued on his quest.

There, at the end of the closet, was the purpose for this perilous quest.

For hidden among the frou-frou and lace of Elizabeth's closet was…

"Sweet rye bread from Heaven!" Norrington exclaimed, staring at his prize.

A/N: Guess what Norrington discovered in Elizabeth's closet… Let me know and you might appear in one of these vignettes (Yes, a starring role).

-Titania


	8. Pain LOTS of pain

COMMODORE NORRINGTON DOES SOMETHING IN CHARACTER… FOR A CHANGE

"Hoist the mainsail!" Commodore James Norrington exclaimed, giving orders to his team of expertly-trained sailors.

"Aye, aye, sir," they all responded, doing as their commodore commanded. Even though that title is completely irrelevant, since that is not the title of an officer, merely a title for a man who commands more than one ship. Technically, one would still suppose that Norrington is still a captain and is called a commodore by Disney and Co. because it sounds a great deal more fancy.

"I shall rid this sea of every pirate for leagues around!" he proclaimed to the sky, which echoed back his cry of pain.

The cry of pain struck him in the face like many out-of-character ships, such as Will/Anamaria, Jack'sDaughter/Will, and, most disturbing for him, Whorrington A/N: Not my word. Way too creepy to be my word.

Norrington collapsed on the deck, weeping in frustration, until his number one toady, Gilette, slapped him across the cheek with a white glove.

"Are you challenging me to a duel, monsieur?" Norrington asked, at his most chilly.

"No," Gilette answered sheepishly. "I was trying to wipe away your tears with this silk glove."

Silence ruled over the entire ocean, as Norrington pondered what Gilette had just told him.

Then, he jumped overboard.

As he was swimming as quickly as possible away from the ship, he let out a sigh of relief.

"So THAT'S why I don't act in character anymore."

And with that, he swam away, to the good land of nonsensical fiction, where he does not have to be paired with anyone and romance is replaced by Mike and Ike candies and MP3 players.

A/N: Sorry if it's extreme. I was in le mood.


	9. Ewww Blood

NORRINGTON WANTS THE GOOD OLD DAYS BACK

"How could you?" Commodore James Norrington demanded, shaking the head of Disney by his Mickey Mouse lapels.

"How could I what?" the bewildered man asked of his very-much-alive character.

"Make the movies so non-child-friendly!" Norrington shouted.

"Wh-what?" the man quavered in his polished black wing tips.

"This new 'Pirates' movie. Are you serious? What was up with that castle torture scene at the beginning? Completely unnecessary!" Norrington protested.

"B-but it was rated appropriately and… and…"

"Right!" Norrington said. "You could have left out the unnecessary creepy parts and cut out the cheesy lines!"

"There were no cheesy lines," his victim protested.

"'Abandon ship or abandon hope'? Who do you think you're kidding?" Norrington snorted.

"Apparently not you…"

"Just promise me… No more people-with-tentacled-faces. You made Titania cower in fear for a while!" Norrington said.

"Yes, he did!" Titania piped up, but was quickly shushed by people who hate self-insertion fics.

"I can't promise anything," the man replied stiffly. "You can take it up with my lawyer. I'll see you in COURT!" With that, he walked out of the room.

Norrington slumped down onto the man's leather couch and clutched the Marie the Kitten (from "Aristocats") plush toy that was lying there.

"I miss the good old days…" he whined.


	10. So do you hate your mother?

NORRINGTON VISITS A DOCTOR… THE KIND WITH THE COUCH AND YELLOW NOTEPAD…

"It all started when I was a little lad," Commodore James Norrington began, lying down on the plush red couch.

"Go on," the psychologist said patiently.

"Well," Norrington said, reassured that the man was listening. "When I got a plastic sword for my eighth birthday. How I loved that sword!"

His eyes shone with the joyous memories of past years, now lost to him forever. The psychologist tried not to gag at the sappiness of that line.

"But then my brother, Ernest, threw it into the fire!" Norrington suddenly exclaimed, bringing his fist to bear down upon the coffee table and spilling hazelnut Chock Full O'Nuts everywhere.

"He had gotten a pirate costume for his birthday, and…"

The psychologist interrupted. "Your brother had the same birthday as you?"

"Oh, yes," Norrington said nonchalantly. "We are identical twins."

The psychologist rolled his eyes at the very thought of the potentially sappy mistaken-love fics that could be written with this in mind.

"_And_," Norrington pressed, "He said that I wasn't cool enough to be a pirate, that I was only worthy of being a blacksmith." His eyes filled with tears.

"So I pulled the sword out and the melting plastic ran onto the floor, causing a rug stain that my mother _still _won't forgive me for."

The psychologist looked up from his nonsensical doodles.

"So that's why you hate pirates and blacksmiths?" he concluded.

"No, that's why I hate plastic!" Norrington shouted, tipping over the plastic cups and the plastic water cooler and running out of the room, laughing maniacally.

A/N: This was… random. Really, really random. The super-special winner's vignette is coming up next!


	11. Made Possible by Tia Dalma, Inc

A/N: Thanks to Andy Foxx, the winner of the Elizabeth's-closet contest, for the idea!

NORRINGTON TAKES UP A NEW HOBBY

"Ok, so…" Norrington murmured to himself, fiddling with something in his perfectly-manicured hands.

"So, this goes here and…" As he made a thrusting motion with one of his fingers, a scream was heard from outside the door.

"Huzzah!" he said, expressing his joy in a very proper manner, worthy of a servant of the crown.

"Now, this one!" he crowed, lifting his little prize into the air.

It was… a voodoo doll. This particular one was of Governor Swann. Norrington giggled madly, ripping the wig off of it and hearing a very satisfying cry of "My darling Pamela!" from outside of Elizabeth's closet.

He then picked up a voodoo doll of himself. It had clearly been stabbed several times and he was surprised that he was still standing after such a brutal treatment. Just as he was inspecting a particularly interesting wound on the back of the doll, he heard a shuffling of crinolines and frou-frou behind him.

"It can't be…!"

Elizabeth stood behind him, wearing a pair of gilded boxing gloves and with a menacing look on her face.

"I knew you would come!" she said viciously.

"No… No!"

"Yes… I knew you would fall into my trap…"

And with that said, Elizabeth went about beating up the man who was far too pompous and righteous to be conquered by a voodoo doll.

…Unfortunately, he was not pompous and righteous enough to escape a brutal beating by an excessively corseted Englishwoman.

A/N: Thanks also to Sparrow's Swann for that last bit! Much love to you all! Review like good children, or I will be forced to cause harm to Jack Sparrow using Elizabeth's voodoo dolls…


	12. Robert Langdon is No James Norrington

NORRINGTON IS NO LONGER A FREEMASON

"So then you make a left at the Louvre and…"

The rest of the conversation could not be heard, as Commodore James Norrington's voice got softer and softer. He was sitting next to a man who was typing furiously at his computer.

"So, what about this code-decoding-thingy?" the man asked, staring intently at Norrington, his fingers poised over the keyboard.

"Oh, well that—" Norrington was just about to explain, when three men wearing Masonic aprons burst into the room.

"You are stripped of your authority as a Freemason!" they told the Commodore in unison.

"Huh?" he asked.

"For giving away the secrets of the Masons to this," they gestured at the man, "individual, you are no longer a member of our secret society."

Dan Brown gulped.

"B-but," he asked timidly, "Can I still write this novel and make a small fortune using your secrets and my terrible plot devices?"

"Sure!" the three men said, then stalked away.

Norrington looked very confused.

"I was a Freemason?" he wondered aloud.

A/N: This was one of those things written completely on a whim. I just closed my eyes and typed the title, then wrote this vignette. I'm very sorry if it makes no sense.


	13. A New Office And a Shiny Desk

NORRINGTON GETS A PROMOTION

"Come on, come on…"

James Norrington was feverishly looking through a screenplay for the third Pirates movie, which had miraculously dropped from the sky right into his lap. He did not question this, because surely the Powers That Be had meant for him to find this.

"Oh. My. GOD!"

Norrington jumped up and squealed like a little girl. He then proceeded to do a little dance, knocking knickknacks onto the floor and stepping on his dog's tail.

The dog, an Airedale named Bon-Bon, bit his leg in retaliation. This calmed him down.

Just then, Gillette walked into the room.

"What were those noises, sir?" he asked, slightly frightened.

"Those, my good man, were the sweet sounds of victory!"

Norrington looked very smug about something, and Gillette resisted the urge to slap that look off of his face.

"Sir?" he asked wearily. He was not in the mood for guessing games, especially because he had eaten bad shrimp last night and was not feeling at all well this morning.

"I get a pro-mo-tion!" Norrington proclaimed in a sing-song voice.

"Congratulations, sir. What are you going to be?"

"ADMIRAL Norrington."

Gillette's eyes went wide.

"Really?"

"I knew that being a double-crosser and a suck-up would pay off!" Again, that smug look.

"Again, sir, congratulations."

Gillette ran from the room, not because he didn't enjoy the company of the now-Admiral, but because the shrimp had decided that his stomach was no longer a worthy residence for them.

"I am SO going to pwn Nelson!" Norrington smirked.


	14. Row, Row, Row Your Boat

NORRINGTON EXAMINES HIS LIFE

"I didn't do much, did I?" Ex-Commodore, Ex-Pirate, Ex-Admiral, and Ex-Oxygen-User James Norrington asked the open air. Or was it air? Since he was no longer able to partake of oxygen, he really couldn't tell what the composition of his surroundings was.

"Nope," he said to himself, shaking his head vigourously and rocking the little boat he was currently sitting in. "Just some pirate-chasing and some Elizabeth-wooing." When he thought about the second, he realized that that had been a big mistake. That girl had the Kiss of Death. First Jack, then Sao Feng, then himself. Hell, you might even count her dad, even if it was more of the Peck-on-the-Cheek of Death sort.

Norrington realized that he deeply regretted the last thing he had ever done while still alive. But at least he knew that his little boat was bigger than the other little boats. He celebrated this one triumph.

But alas, Norrington was not known for his triumphs. And so his happiness was quickly disrupted when he saw a shadow fall over his little boat.

"What the…?"

A giant ship, all too familiar to Norrington, surfaced behind him.

"Crap, crap, crap!" Norrington screamed, leaning over to paddle faster. "Not this guy again!"

But on the deck stood, not the imposing Crab-Man, as Norrington affectionately called him. No, it was, instead, Will the Krill. Wearing eyeliner, a bandanna, and sporting a very cool scar on his chest.

Norrington felt inferior. Clearly, even when you were dead, size did matter.

A/N: I saw the new film, and, like any normal soul, was horrified at the speed with which our favourite Commodore/Pirate/Admiral was killed off, while Curly and Moe (AKA those two soldiers) were left alive after a monumental battle. Ugh.


	15. Seriously Pillows!

Disclaimer: Don't own the BBC. Don't own Disney or anything Disney-related. Don't own Sainsbury's. Don't own Jack Davenport. Wish I owned some Ribena right now. Don't own Errol Flynn.

NORRINGTON HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE PIRATE-THEMED MEDIA BLITZ. SERIOUSLY.

James Norrington had very little patience, despite being an Englishman. And the smidgens of patience that still remained to Norrington vanished forever when he saw the TV spot for a pirate-themed reality show.

"WHAT?"

He spat out the watermelon seeds from his mouthful of watermelon in a gesture of outrage, but then realized that he would have done that anyway, so he spat out some watermelon to add to his general mien of outrage.

"Right. I'm putting an end to this. NOW."

A bus ride later, he was at the BBC studio, trying to convince a studio executive that he _was_, in fact, Jack Davenport and NOT a naval officer named James Norrington, deceased. Also, he needed to deliver an important message to the people.

"Mr. Davenport, don't you--?"

"Out of my way!"

Tired of negotiating (bear in mind, this is a man with no patience), he ran past the executive, towards the studio where the news was being filmed.

Positioning himself with great dexterity before a camera, Norrington took a moment to smooth his hair down, before delivering his message.

"People. Please stop deluding yourselves. Pirates were not good people. They smelled. They had scurvy. They were missing body parts. They would kill you, and not even care if you were a buxom blond with eyes that changed four different colours and were a master swordswoman/bountyhunter/wench. And if you think that Will Turner or Jack Sparrow are good examples of what a swashbuckling hero looks like, I have two words for you: Errol. Flynn. ENOUGH, I say, of the television spin-offs, posters, cardboard cutouts, billboards, movies, videogames, adapted novels, sticker books, children's novels, action figures, board games, greeting cards that play the theme song, fluffy pink pillows with a picture of—"

Norrington was dragged away mid-rant by Bob, the Burly Security Guard.

"Thank you, Bob, I'll take it from here."

As Norrington looked up at the speaker, he suddenly froze and looked extremely recalcitrant.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, James?" Will Turner queried, folding his arms across his chest.

"I—"

"Look, I did not make you a member of my crew so that you could transport yourself to the future and publicly insult me."

But in the space of that sentence, Norrington had looked down at his own feet, and seemed to be staring intently at Will's feet.

"You're standing in a bucket," he said flatly.

"Yes," Will looked uncomfortable, "You know the rule about the one-day-every-ten-years, and how else was I supposed t—"

Norrington did not hear any of this, as he was on the floor, laughing hysterically.

"Errol Flynn would make a prawn sandwich out of you!" Norrington burst out, clutching his side. "God! You're such a-- Prawn sandwich… Mmmm."

Will frowned. "How dare you? I am your cap—"

But Norrington had something else in mind right now.

"With mayonnaise," he nodded to himself. "Maybe get some Ribena, too."

And so, he went down to Sainsbury's to get himself a prawn sandwich. And Will was left in the bucket, looking ridiculous. But, alas, the stupid pink pillows with the feather trim and pictures of Jack Sparrow or Will Turner were still on sale at the Disney Store. And they were selling, which was the scariest part.


	16. Wigs and a Prawn Sandwich lead to Doom

Quick Disclaimer: I do not own TLC, Clinton Kelly, Stacey London, and all of that "What Not to Wear" goodness

Quick Disclaimer: I do not own TLC, Clinton Kelly, Stacey London, and all of that "What Not to Wear" goodness. I do, however, own a Bratz doll and a passion for fashion.

COMMODORE NORRINGTON IS NOW TOTALLY FAB-U-LOUS

Commodore James Norrington had decided to time travel into the future yet again, breaking his promise to Captain Will "The Krill" Turner in his quest for the perfect replacement wig. His own had been tragically lost in a complex incident involving some crazy ghost with a pegleg who attacked the Flying Dutchman after one of the crewmen had accidentally painted it white, screaming "The great white whale! The great white whale!"

The point was, he assumed that the future would have much spiffier and higher-quality wigs. Also, he wanted another prawn and mayonnaise sandwich from Tesco's.

Unfortunately, his quest for the perfect wig was stretching into its second month, and he knew that Captain Krill would probably remember him sooner or later and come back to scold him for messing up the time-space continuum. Again. The situation seemed hopeless, and he sat very sadly in his little hotel room in New York City (which he had paid for with some of Captain Krill's dad's money, carefully stolen from his pocket), until there was a knock on the door and two very fabulous people burst into the room.

"Looks like someone needs to go from 'Arrr' to 'FiARRRce!', Clinton purred, looking Norrington up and down and raising his eyebrows at the man's extremely strange apparel.

"Ugh, what is that trim on your jacket? It's awful!" Stacey exclaimed, pretending to shield her eyes from the golden ribbons all over Norrington's coat.

Norrington opened his mouth and then shut it again. His eyes spoke for him. And they were saying, "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!"

But, of course, Clinton and Stacey don't speak eye-language, only body language, so they didn't pay any heed to his reception of them.

Two days of shopping, a haircut, and a make-up job later, Norrington looked in the mirror at his final transformation.

"Well, what do you think of the new you?" Clinton chirped eagerly.

"Omigod."

As Norrington crazily started tearing clothing off of himself, mussing up his hair, and trying so very hard to rub off all the 'smoky eye' makeup, he noticed a figure standing in the shadows. A figure in a bucket.

"Let that be a lesson to you, James. Pull this crap one more time and I swear—I SWEAR—I'll sic the Queer Eye guys on you," intoned the Captain of the Flying Dutchman.

Norrington hung his head and followed Turner back into the world of the dead. "I didn't even get my sandwich," he thought sadly, since he'd wound up in New York and not London this time around.

Clinton and Stacey, meanwhile, imploded from Will Turner's horrific wardrobe. A bucket is not an acceptable accessory.


	17. You're Not Daddy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of the characters involved therein.

NORRINGTON BEGINS TO WISH HE HAD STAYED IN HIS LITTLE BOAT AND NOT JOINED WILL THE KRILL'S CREW, AFTER ALL

For once, James Norrington had actually decided to stay aboard the Flying Dutchman and not go time-travelling into the future. He would very shortly regret this.

"James!"

Captain Turner's shout drew everybody's attention except for the person it was supposed to summon. Norrington calmly continued sipping his Rooibos Chai, congratulating himself on his good taste in tea and casually ignoring his captain.

Will, miffed that he would have to fight yet _another_ battle of words with this impossibly stubborn man, walked over to Norrington and knocked the teacup out of his hand in a way that was supposed to indicate that he meant business. Instead, he only scalded himself with the hot liquid and that particular pair of boots would forever smell of spices.

"I am your captain and you must do as I say!" Will protested petulantly, seeing how his 'fear-inspiring' persona was getting him nowhere with this man and instantly switching gears.

Norrington gave Will his most withering look, and flicked his hand, as if to say, "Do go on".

Will crossed his arms. "It's been ten years. I get to go back for a day."

"Whoooooooohooooooo," Norrington said tonelessly.

"Shut up."

The entire crew had gathered to watch this battle between their captain and the only crewmember who didn't really seem to give two flying figs for what the captain thought of him. Most of them were rooting for Norrington who was (let's face it) the manlier man.

"So," Will continued, trying to appear nonchalant, "I want you to come with me."

Norrington said nothing, but raised his eyebrows. The rest of the crew remarked to each other how much Norrington now looked like the captain and Will like the lowly lackey.

"Elizabeth and I want to be alone and we need someone to stay with Will Jr," Will finally said.

Norrington's eyebrows reached a truly astonishing altitude.

"Your son is 19…"

Will simply shrugged. "The boy needs a father figure."

"I'm not babysitting while you spend the day in bed with your wife," Norrington said, and was about to walk away, when Will seized his collar.

"You can tell that to Elizabeth," he said in a menacing voice.

Norrington paled.

_Author's Note: Written because after seeing the third movie for the second time since last summer, that ending still doesn't sit well with me._

_And please review!_


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